


human

by prdshan



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Communication, Established Relationship, Eventual Fluff, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married Couple, Mental Health Issues, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, No Actual Cheating, References to Depression, Sad with a Happy Ending, mentions of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-30 19:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21433396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prdshan/pseuds/prdshan
Summary: Jisung and Hyunjin have overcome so many obstacles together, it seems impossible that anything could break them.Then Seungmin brought Minho home, and things began to change.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han & Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Kim Seungmin/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 31
Kudos: 582
Collections: drop everything and read this





	human

**Author's Note:**

> this based off that one episode of the ninth but like waaaaaay angstier.
> 
> There is no cheating at all, though it is briefly mentioned. I guess warnings for some mild mentions of drinking, weight loss, and depression but nothing explicit. If any of those make you uncomfortable please do not read.
> 
> Title from the song by ZICO, i made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0GUnTCcNqcM8sP41cw9iSp?si=DuMvlbLURZC7qFiFecf20A) if anyone's interested in that, it's just songs i listened to while writing this.

Jisung was bouncing on the heels of his expensive shoes as his gaze swept across the room, making sure everything was in place. The tables along the walls were lined with food, family members and friends milling around and mingling. One could say it wasn’t that big of an event to warrant such an extravagant party, but Jisung’s parents were nothing if not opportunists, taking every chance they got to shove their wealth in the faces of others. It was a good thing Jisung didn’t see them much since he’d moved out of the house—sooner than anyone had expected—and outside of the mandatory Sunday dinners, he steered clear of them altogether. 

But this was too important for him to skip out on. 

Seungmin was coming home after almost a year and a half of being abroad in Europe for his internship. They’d texted, called, video-chatted and even emailed one another the entire time, but that was nothing compared to seeing his brother in the flesh. 

He was supposed to be arriving soon, since he had texted Jisung when he’d landed at the airport, saying he’d be over after stopping by his apartment to change into something fancier. Jisung hadn’t even told him about the party, but he knew their parents well enough to expect something like this. 

"You're practically vibrating," an amused voice came from behind him. An arm slipped around his waist, pulling him close as lips brushed his against ear. "It's just Seungmin, calm down." 

Jisung turned in his grasp, lifting his chin to look up at Hyunjin. He was dressed plainly, black shirt and slacks, newly dyed brown hair messy across his forehead. It had taken much longer than intended for him to get ready earlier, mainly because he’d had to get re-dressed after Jisung had taken the outfit off him because he’d looked a little _ too _ good. 

"I know, it's just—" Jisung said, stopping to sigh. He looked away from his husband and let his eyes flicker towards the front door where Seungmin was meant to appear at any second. "I don't know, what if he's changed?"

Hyunjin let out a laugh at that, drawing Jisung closer and pressing a kiss to his hair. 

"Seungmin? _ Kim Seungmin _?" Hyunjin asked, amusement and incredulity in his tone at Jisung’s words. "Sung-ah, he won't even dye his hair, I highly doubt you have anything to worry about." 

That was true. If there was one thing his brother disliked above everything else, it was change. He liked routine and familiarity. 

"You're right," Jisung said, looking back at Hyunjin, who was smiling down at him. 

He settled against Hyunjin's side, allowing his head to rest on his husband's shoulder, sighing contently. Hyunjin squeezed his side, a silent comfort as people chattered around them. "I'm just a bit too excited to have him home."

"I know, babe," Hyunjin said softly, and when Jisung glanced up Hyunjin had a small smile on his face, expression slightly dazed. "Me too."

If anyone understood how much he’d missed his brother, it would be Hyunjin. Hyunjin had been Seungmin's friend since high school, in fact Seungmin was the reason Jisung had met Hyunjin in the first place, when he'd dragged Hyunjin along to their shared spot for lunch during one recess. Seungmin and Hyunjin were inseparable, which had bothered Jisung a lot back then seeing as Seungmin had not only been his brother but also his best friend. 

And thus had begun his intense dislike towards Hwang Hyunjin, and things had only escalated from there. Sometimes Jisung wondered how they'd even managed to get to where they were that day with the way they'd despised each other. 

Jisung shook himself, turning away from the old memories and focusing on the present. Seungmin had yet to arrive, was bordering on fashionably late which was uncommon for him, but Jisung knew it was possibly just the jet lag or traffic keeping him up. 

Before he could voice any concerns to Hyunjin, the door opened, drawing everyone's attention. 

"Welcome home!" They all shouted, Jisung's voice loud and distinctive in the crowd. 

He knew his smile was probably blinding, splitting across his face. Hyunjin was physically restraining him from sprinting and toppling his brother over in a bear hug, knowing how disapproving his parents would be. 

As everyone quieted down, Jisung noted two things at once as his brother and his companion stepped into the room. 

One, Seungmin's hair was blonde. Blonde. A dark, sandy blonde that matched the plaid jacket he wore. His face had also matured, sharpening and finally making him look his age, the baby fat now missing.

And two, there was another man standing beside him. 

Jisung stared at the man's expensive, tailored suit and dark blue hair, gaze travelling up as took in the delicate features of the man's face, before his eyes fell to their clasped hands. He blinked in surprise because surely there was _ no way. _

"Uh, hey guys," Seungmin said, albeit a bit awkwardly, like he was trying to ignore the stares boring into him and his...boyfriend? 

Jisung would have felt sorry for the deafening silence that had descended over the room, all directed at his brother, but he couldn't bring himself to break it. 

Seungmin turned to the man beside him, the two of them sharing a long and significant look, before Seungmin took another tentative step forward.

"Everyone this is, Minho…" Seungmin said, gesturing to the man next to him. Jisung didn't know what he'd expected the next words to come out of Seungmin's mouth to be, but he certainly hadn't expected, "he's my husband." 

Jisung's eyes darting between his brother and his _ husband _ before cutting towards his parents. His mother's face was an interesting shade of red, while his father seemed to have lost all blood circulation and had turned as white as a sheet. 

Under normal circumstances, Jisung would've laughed long and hard, but he was just as stumped as everyone else. 

Fortunately, his parents were too self conscious about their image to cause a scene, and to everyone's relief, they stayed silent and cold as the party continued on, though a bit awkwardly. 

And that was the beginning of the end, or at least to Jisung it was. But what he didn't know was that the end had been nearing for a long time already.

*

Jisung had taken it upon himself to get to know his brother’s husband—his _ husband _, how the ever loving fuck had that even happened—a bit better. 

Jisung still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his brother was married. _ Married _. Seungmin had dated about two people in his entire life. A girl in high school, they’d been together right up until graduation, and had broken up because they were going to different colleges and neither wanted to do the whole long distance relationship thing. 

The only other person he’d dated was a boy at his college, and they’d been together for over a year when they realised they were more like friends than boyfriends—and that led to Lee Felix entering their lives and friend-group. Somehow, he’d become Jisung’s other best friend. Felix was now dating Jeongin, a close friend of Hyunjin’s, and they were exceedingly happy—happier than he and Seungmin had ever been. 

Since then, Seungmin had focused mainly on finishing school and securing an internship. Jisung remembered the way his brother’s eyes had bulged when Jisung had moved out at eighteen. Without a word he'd left and moved into into the tiniest apartment imaginable in the most questionable neighbourhood, from the money he made at his three jobs.

He couldn’t stand staying with their parents any longer, and since he’d had no plans of going to college, wanting to pursue his dreams of becoming a producer—something his parents never had and still didn’t approve of—he knew that he should make a move before they kicked him out. 

Seungmin couldn’t understand it, as to him he was more than happy to follow the life plan that had been set out for him. Because Seungmin was all about rules, familiarity and order. Which is exactly the reason why Jisung couldn’t comprehend this entire situation. 

Of course, he was happy for his brother. But he had to be sceptical. None of this was the Seungmin behaviour he was used to. They’d all expected Seungmin to return to Korea with a few trinkets, maybe a tacky t-shirt, but a _ husband _? Jisung didn’t think any of them could have predicted that one. 

It was sudden—of course it was sudden, Seungmin had only been gone for about eighteen months, and with the job as well, Jisung had no idea how he'd even gotten the time to form a meaningful enough relationship that it had lead to marriage? 

But none of that mattered. 

Seungmin knew of Jisung’s suspicions, though he never voiced them. In the end, Jisung cared more about his brother’s happiness than his own reservations. As long as this Lee Minho loved his brother and treated him well, that was all Jisung cared about. And if he hurt Seungmin, in any way, Jisung would raise hell and maybe even get arrested in the wrath that would follow. 

Until that happened, Jisung was here, sitting in a lounge with Minho across from him, both of them sipping fancy cocktails at a place not too far from Seungmin—and now Minho’s—apartment. The atmosphere was a bit awkward, because how could it not be? But Jisung was determined to do this right, for Seungmin. 

There were few things Jisung knew about Minho, all of which he learned from Seungmin when Jisung had tentatively approached the subject a few weeks ago. Minho was a dancer—a successful one too. He owned a relatively well-known dance studio in Seoul. He was an only child and loved cats—really loved cats. Jisung had laughed when Seungmin told him the story of how Minho had given him the silent treatment for a whole day after Seungmin had gotten his cats’ names wrong. 

"Minho-ssi," Jisung said, placing his glass on the table and folding his hands into his lap so he didn’t fiddle with them. "How did you and my brother meet?" 

It was the thing Jisung was most curious about. Hyunjin had also expressed the same interest when they’d gotten ready for bed the night before, Jisung having told him about his arranged meeting with Minho. 

"Please call me hyung," Minho said, his voice soft, and Jisung acknowledged his words with a slight nod. 

Minho was dressed nicely, and Jisung wondered if that was his way of trying to impress not only Jisung, but their entire family. Jisung didn’t have the heart to tell him that he would never be able to impress either of their parents, notorious as they were for being disapproving of everyone but themselves. 

Minho sighed, a small smile on his lips as he fiddled with the straw of his drink. When he looked up at Jisung, his eyes were distant and hazy, his expression far away. 

"And well, it's not all that interesting,” Minho said, one corner of his lips quirking up into a smile. “I was choreographing a piece for the arts festival they were holding in Berlin and Seungmin's project was to cover the event. He came across me while I was dancing on stage, and when I saw him taking pictures, I went up to him later and asked if I could look at them… and things just went from there."

"That's a cute story, hyung," Jisung said, smiling. "I'm glad my brother met you. He seems… more open now." 

It was the truth. Jisung was happy for Seungmin, even though he was still a bit unsure about everything. It was Seungmin’s life, and Jisung would support him in every decision, and if things went wrong, he’d be there to help pick up the pieces.

Seungmin was more open, though maybe it wasn’t noticeable at first because he’d always been most open with Jisung. But when they went out together, there was a confidence there he hadn’t had before. He laughed louder, spoke more, smiled brighter. Jisung didn’t know if it was Minho’s influence, the effect of being away from Korea and being surrounded by a different environment, or both. Whatever it was, Seungmin was happier—freer—and that meant Jisung was ecstatic. 

"Thank you," Minho said, his smile gentle as he took another sip of his drink and gestured to Jisung. "How did you and Hyunjin meet?" 

Jisung almost snorted, because oh, was that a story. 

_ "Ha!” _ Jisung laughed, shaking his head a bit. 

He and Hyunjin were an… interesting pair, especially at the start. Anyone who’d been friends with them or known them for long enough, could barely comprehend the fact that they were even together. Jisung couldn’t blame them. 

Fifteen-year-old Jisung would’ve been more inclined to punch Hyunjin in the face than ever admit to liking him as a human being. Now, twenty-five-year-old Jisung kisses him on the cheek before leaving for work, placing a coffee on the bedside table while Hyunjin smiles sleepily up at him and bids him goodbye. 

“We had known each other since high school, but we hated each other," Jisung said, grinning. He chuckled at Minho’s dubious look. 

"Seriously, we fought all the time. Seungmin had to pry us apart. It wasn't until his second year of college that we met again. It was awkward at first, but we eventually worked through that and became friends and then after a while… we were something else."

Jisung both loved and hated remembering that time. 

After moving out, he’d gone out of his way to avoid his parents and, for a while, even Seungmin. He worked himself to the bone to be able to keep his apartment, only barely managed to scrape together some time to work on his music. It had been hell, and most of the time he’d wondered if his life would’ve been better had he just gone along with what his parents had wanted for him. But Jisung had been stubborn and determined, maybe a little overly ambitious. It was his dream. He wasn’t going to give it up, no matter how hard things got. 

It wasn’t until a year and a half later, when he’d been on the night shift at the café where he worked part-time, that Hwang Hyunjin came back into his life. 

At that point, he hadn’t seen Hyunjin since their graduation ceremony, avoiding him like the plague because he was too close. Too close to Seungmin, too close to Jisung’s old life, and back then he didn't want anything to do with his old life. 

It had been a shock to them, both of them sleep deprived and blurry eyed, staring at each other across the counter separating the kitchen and the rest of the shop. It had been so late—or early, depending on how you looked at it—and they’d both been so dazed by the occurrence, Jisung half believed he dreamt the whole thing. Hyunjin later admitted that he’d thought it was a dream as well, the only proof he had that it was real was the empty coffee cup, his name scrawled messily in Jisung’s handwriting, recognizable from the years Hyunjin had spent mocking it. 

But it kept happening. Jisung kept working the night shift, and Hyunjin kept coming in. Jisung had been anxious at first, worried Hyunjin would tell Seungmin—or worse, his parents—where he was, but after about the fifth time of Hyunjin showing up, and nothing bad happening, he’d slowly began to relax. 

They hadn’t talked much, or at all, in the beginning. It took months before Hyunjin said something that wasn’t his usual coffee order. 

One night, when the shop was empty besides the two of them, and Jisung had been preparing Hyunjin’s drink, his voice had broken the silence—which had become less uncomfortable, and more bearable over those months. 

_ "What are you doing?" _ Hyunjin had asked. 

Jisung had paused, a snappy remark on his lips. _ I’m making your stupid drink, what does it look like I’m doing, dumbass? _

But he’d stopped before those words could escape. They weren’t the teenagers they used to be, snipping at each other for the slightest bit of reaction. There was significance to Hyunjin’s words. He had spoken softly, gently, with an earnest curiosity. 

Jisung had finished Hyunjin’s drink, screwing the lip on and turning to him. Hyunjin had looked at him with almost pleading eyes, with none of the angry, short-tempered teenager bullshit Jisung was used to from him. 

_ "I’m just… trying to live." _

Hyunjin’s eyes searched his face, as if seeing him for the first time, before nodding and taking his drink. Jisung had breathed out a sigh of relief when the door closed behind Hyunjin, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 

Things had changed after that. They spoke but their conversations were stilted and awkward. A few months down the line, numbers were given out, and more stilted and awkward texts were exchanged. They had absolutely no idea how to navigate each other when they weren’t fighting, but they tried. And they kept trying until one day, it wasn’t difficult. Until they could joke around and smile. 

And _ god _, could Jisung still remember the first time Hyunjin had ever smiled at him. 

He was sure that moment had been ingrained into his brain, etched into his eyelids to be replayed on loop. It sounded dramatic, but there was something about Hyunjin’s smile that hit him right in the sternum, made his chest constrict painfully until he felt he would burst from the pressure. It warmed him from the inside out, chasing away the cold that had seeped into his bones from the failed heating in his cheap apartment. 

Months later, after Jisung had been too sick to work, Hyunjin had tracked him down and almost had a stroke at the state of his apartment. 

_ "Not all of us can be privileged princes _," Jisung had snapped defensively, head pounding from the fever. Hyunjin had glared at him, shoving the medicine he’d bought into Jisung’s hands and placing the food he’d made on the counter. 

He’d stayed the whole time—almost a week—Jisung had been sick, regularly making sure he ate and took his medication, picked him up when he’d almost collapsed, and just keeping Jisung’s fever addled brain occupied with stories of what he’d been up to while Jisung was away. Jisung hadn’t found out until later that Hyunjin had even been skipping his classes to stay with him. 

In that time, he’d learnt that Hyunjin attended a college close to the café, was majoring in dance and minoring in English. His parents—though all the way in America, having moved away soon after Hyunjin’s graduation—were supportive and paid his tuition. He had an apartment left in his name as well, and he pointedly stated that it was better than Jisung’s. 

By the time Jisung was better, and Hyunjin was ready to return to his own apartment, he’d stopped and turned to Jisung with an uncharacteristically serious expression that had shaken Jisung to his core. 

_ "Move in with me _," Hyunjin had said. 

Jisung had laughed, Hyunjin hadn’t. 

Jisung had cursed him, called him insane, told Hyunjin he didn’t want his fucking pity. Hyunjin had stood there and taken it all, expression unchanged until Jisung was finished. 

_ "It isn’t pity. You’re my friend, you’re spreading yourself so thin I’m afraid you’ll hurt yourself, and I don’t think I can handle the thought of not being there if that ever happened again." _

Jisung had wanted to spit at him, before he realised that at that point, Hyunjin was his only friend. Hyunjin was all he had because he’d pushed everyone else away, ran and hid himself away from the world, too focused on himself to give anyone else the time of day. It was concerning, and Hyunjin knew it too. 

But up until then, Hyunjin had just been so much of everything. He made up for the years Jisung spent alone, filling up all the space until it felt like Jisung didn’t need anybody else. He was loud, bright, he gave affection and comfort freely. Somehow, Hyunjin had become everything, and that was scary. Moving in with him would’ve only made that worse, seeing as Jisung had been well on his way to becoming unhealthily dependant on him. 

So he’d said, _ I’ll think about it _, and Hyunjin had nodded and left. 

He hadn’t come back to the café in days, but Jisung knew that was his way of letting Jisung have his space than actually abandoning him. And when he came around again a week and a half later, Jisung had answered him with "_ when my lease is up, I’ll move in with you. _" 

Hyunjin hadn’t smiled, had only nodded, but his eyes were sparkling and Jisung knew he was happy. 

Months later, Jisung was moving his admittedly small number of items into Hyunjin’s apartment. He wouldn’t have to pay rent, Hyunjin had reassured him, since the place was already fully paid for by his parents. That had been really helpful, as Jisung had then been allowed to quit two of his three part-time jobs, holding onto one as a backup in case anything went wrong, and just to keep a steady salary. 

The new amount of free time he had meant more time to work on his music, and increase his chances of actually _ making it. _

Living with Hyunjin was easier than he’d first thought it would be, they barely fought—and if they did it was a few pointed comments about how messy Jisung was and how Hyunjin needed to stop moving his things—and they fell into a rhythm that satisfied them both. 

Life went on, they became even closer, because that was inevitable. Jisung was introduced to Jeongin and Changbin, friends of Hyunjin from his college. Changbin and Jisung had disliked each other at first—not to the extent of him and Hyunjin in high school—but it had taken much longer for Jisung to warm to Changbin compared to Jeongin, who he’d taken a liking to immediately. 

Changbin was the one to introduce Jisung to the underground rap scene, and in turn, Chan. When they’d first met Chan, they hadn't really known who he was, hadn’t realised he wasn’t just Bang Chan, their friend who made music for fun, but _ Christopher Bang _, the youngest producer under JYP Entertainment. 

To them he was just, giggly, goofy, cuddly Chan, who sometimes went by CB97 when on stage in a dingy abandoned building. 

He brought them into his home studio, recorded and mixed tracks with them, and it wasn’t until weeks later that he’d presented them with passes and dragged them into his actual studio, one reserved for him at the company building. Jisung had flipped his shit—Changbin as well, but with a little more grace—when Chan told them who he really was. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to be angry about the whole thing, because Chan was the nicest person he’d ever met, and he mentored both Jisung and Changbin, not mockingly but with an encouraging smile and sincere words. And when he’d come to both of them, asking them if he could release some of their tracks—with full credits and compensation—how could Jisung refuse? It had been all he’d ever wanted. To have his music heard, liked, _ appreciated _. 

Hyunjin had been the ever-present rock Jisung had leaned on in bad times, and even during the good. He was always there with open arms and soft kisses on the cheek or forehead. He didn’t comfort Jisung with false words, just held him and distracted him as best he could. He was there and it was more than Jisung could’ve ever asked for. He was there even when Jisung was snappy, uninspired and listless, never once leaving even when Jisung sometimes—purposefully—pissed him off. 

_ "I’m not going anywhere _ ," Hyunjin had snapped when Jisung had gone a little too far. " _ I’m not leaving you, no matter how hard you try to push me away. I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not working, so stop." _

Jisung had been so used to pushing people away and having them stay away. They never came back. They never stayed in general. But of course,_ of course _, Hwang Hyunjin was the exception to that. He was the exception to everything. 

After that, Jisung had stopped trying to piss him off, stopped trying to push him away, rather embracing him, breaking down the wall he hadn’t even realised he’d still been holding up, the last barrier keeping him from getting hurt. It was all or nothing, and he’d just hoped Hyunjin wouldn’t hurt him.

(He hadn’t). 

When Jisung had released his first song—his first solo song, written, produced and composed by himself—he’d been ecstatic, heart racing, riding a high he felt he’d never come down from. It had made him light-headed and reckless, and when he’d sprinted into their apartment at 4am, having stayed up all night and morning to make sure everything went perfectly, he didn’t think twice before barging into Hyunjin’s room. Hyunjin had groaned, blinking up at him with an adorably disgruntled pout, demanding to know what Jisung’s problem was. 

Jisung had barely managed to get the words out, giddy and giggly and happy, but Hyunjin had understood, and his eyes had widened, all traces of sleepiness leaving him as he surged up and wrapped his arms around Jisung’s neck, dragging him down onto the mattress into a bone-crushing hug, murmuring into his ear, _ "you did it, I’m so proud of you, I always knew you could." _

And that’s where Jisung’s thought process had become a bit skewed. Because by then, they’d been together for almost two years, and Jisung wasn’t the kind of person to deny his own feelings. He’d known, way back when Hyunjin had taken care of him and demanded they move into together, hell when he’d first _ smiled _ at Jisung, he’d known. It was obvious that he was in danger of falling in love with Hwang Hyunjin. 

And he did. 

One day things were normal, and the next he was locking himself in his room, feigning an excuse about needing to work on his music when really he’d had to physically restrain himself from kissing Hyunjin because he’d looked so beautiful, dressed in pyjamas, hair messy, head thrown back in laughter at the drama on television. He'd looked like everything Jisung wanted and had convinced himself he wasn’t allowed to have. 

But he hadn’t let the breakdown last long—hadn’t allowed himself to pull away and put distance between them. Because this was Hyunjin, and he would take that in entirely the wrong way, and Jisung couldn’t bear to hurt his best friend that way. So he’d learned to live with it, he loved Hyunjin silently, with all of his being, and instead of letting it tear him apart, he basked in it. He didn’t need that kind of love returned, as long as he got to keep Hyunjin in his life, that would be enough. 

But in that moment, Hyunjin clinging to him a bit tighter than he usually would, and Jisung, euphoric and dazed, pulled back and kissed him. For a single moment, it was as if everything in the universe had slotted together perfectly. It felt so right. That feeling lasted up until he realised what he'd done. 

He’d pulled away as if burned, staring at Hyunjin in horror. He hadn’t even allowed himself to properly take in the expression on Hyunjin’s face before he was pulling away and stumbling to his own room, Hyunjin calling out for him but not following. 

Hours later, Jisung having stayed up, curled into himself while he stared at his bedroom wall, thinking about how he’d just ruined everything good in his life. How he’d been too selfish, wanted too much, and how he was about to lose it all. 

He hadn’t known how many hours had gone by, but the sun had been peeking through the curtains by the time his door was quietly opened, and he heard Hyunjin step inside. Jisung wanted to feign sleep, or disappear from existence completely, but if there was one thing he wasn’t, it was a coward. 

And when Hyunjin had softly murmured his name, he’d turned with little hesitation. Unlike Jisung—who’d looked ragged and worn, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes—Hyunjin looked at ease. Jisung had shuffled forward until he sat at the edge of the mattress, gaze downcast as he’d waited for Hyunjin to speak. 

To his surprise, Hyunjin had kneeled down on the floor in front of him, looking up at him with an unreadable expression—which had unnerved him, because he’d always prided himself on reading Hyunjin so easily. Jisung had no choice but to look at him. 

_ "Did you mean it? _" Hyunjin had asked. 

He didn’t need to specify what he meant; they both knew. It had only been hours, and yet it felt like a lifetime had passed. Jisung hesitated only for a split second before nodding tentatively. And then Hyunjin had smiled, and it had hit Jisung in the gut the same way it had the first time, except that time was worse because his smile was so _ bright _. He was practically glowing. 

Jisung had gotten no warning as Hyunjin surged up, hands coming to tangle in his hair and dragging him forward, crushing their lips together. Jisung hadn’t hesitated to kiss him back, savouring the feeling of Hyunjin’s lips after waiting for so long, after thinking he’d never get to have it. 

It had been so easy—_ too _ easy—for them to go from being friends to being more. Looking back, he could admit that they’d already been a couple, just without the added benefits of kissing and touching and exploring. 

Changbin had refused to enter their apartment for weeks, forbidding Jeongin from visiting as well, not wanting either of them to be exposed to, as he called them,_"Two_ _horny fuckers who finally got their shit together and probably fuck like rabbits all over the goddamn apartment."_

And well… he hadn’t been _ wrong _. 

The only rough patch they’d ever had was when Hyunjin had brought up the possibility of Jisung reconnecting with Seungmin. Jisung had refused at first, and instead of getting into a heated argument, Hyunjin had let the subject drop completely, going completely silent and closed off, and that was a thousand times worse than any fight could've been. Jisung had known it was his way of trying to leave things alone, but Seungmin was still Hyunjin’s best friend, and moreso, he was Jisung’s brother. 

And one night, Hyunjin had tearfully explained it, the real reason he wanted Jisung to talk to Seungmin. 

_ "He misses you. And I know you miss him too, even if you won’t say it. I just want you to be happy, both of you." _

Jisung hadn’t caved, at least not then. Weeks had gone by and things had returned to normal, as if nothing had ever happened. Hyunjin’s cold aura thawed easily, but his words were stuck in Jisung’s head. It took awhile for him to dredge up the courage to seek Seungmin out, having gotten his address off Hyunjin’s phone. He contemplated for hours before driving down, standing in front of Seungmin’s door, terrified as hell, before forcing himself to knock. 

He hadn’t known what to expect when Seungmin had opened the door. Maybe he’d punch Jisung, maybe shout at him or slam the door shut in his face. What he hadn’t expected was for his brother to fall to his knees and start crying. 

Jisung had panicked for about two seconds before dropping down as well, gathering Seungmin into his arms and hugging him tightly. It didn’t take long before they were both sobbing, clutching onto each other like they’d never let go, Seungmin mumbling incoherently under his breath. When they’d finally gotten themselves under control, Seungmin pulled Jisung into his apartment and demanded to know everything. 

It took a while to explain, but Jisung managed to tell Seungmin about the three years he’d been away, making sure to leave out the parts about Hyunjin. He knew that Hyunjin had kept it a secret from Seungmin, the fact that Jisung was staying with him, the fact that he knew where Jisung was at all. He’d done it for Jisung’s sake, to make him feel comfortable, and he had never been more thankful for it. 

He continued to meet with Seungmin, though he hadn’t mentioned it to Hyunjin just yet. He didn’t want his boyfriend to get over excited in case something went wrong, and he couldn’t stand to see Hyunjin sad or disappointed. So their meetings consisted of Jisung going to Seungmin’s apartment, or them meeting up at restaurants and cafes, public places. Seungmin had even been to the JYP building, having met Chan as well. 

The day Jisung finally decided to bring Seungmin fully into his life, was the day things went wrong.

He still hadn’t shared with Hyunjin that he’d gone to Seungmin, that he _ continued _ to go to Seungmin. So when they pulled up to the apartment, Seungmin rightfully confused, Jisung had asked him to wait outside for a few minutes while he went inside, intent on explaining the situation to his boyfriend. Jisung hadn’t even been able to utter a word before the full force of Hyunjin’s attention was on him. 

_ "Sung-ah, I bought you cheesecake from the bakery," _ Hyunjin had beamed, walking over and dragging Jisung into a hug, grin on his face as he ducked down to press a quick kiss to Jisung’s lips. 

For a moment, Hyunjin’s own happiness had been so overwhelming that Jisung had forgotten all about Seungmin who was waiting outside, and just allowed himself to bask in Hyunjin as he always did. It wasn’t until a low _ what the fuck _ was uttered that both of them turned and found Seungmin standing in the doorway, furious expression on his face. 

They’d both barely had time to process what had happened, when Seungmin was heading for the door and they were chasing after him. 

_ "Seungmin, wait!" _ Hyunjin had shouted, desperately. _ "Just let me explain." _

_ "Explain? You want to explain how you’ve known where my brother was this whole time? You want to explain how you’ve had him with you for years and never told me? _" Seungmin’s words had been sharp, his gaze even sharper as he stared Hyunjin down, Jisung cowering a few feet away. 

That wasn’t how he’d meant for things to go, but he couldn’t bring himself to move or speak. 

_ "Seungmin, please. It’s more complicated than that, _" Hyunjin had said. 

_ "I’m sure it was." _ He’d left with that, and neither one of them went after him then, watching him walk away. 

It wasn’t until they were back in the apartment, that Jisung broke down and spoke. He crashed into the ground, sobbing into his hands. 

_ "I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, I just—I didn't know how. And now everything messed up because of me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Hyunjin-ah," _ he’d cried. Hyunjin had been at his side in and instant, shushing him. 

_ "Don’t ever apologise," _ Hyunjin had said into Jisung’s hair, his hand rubbing soothing circles into Jisung’s back. _ "I don’t care that he’s upset, Jisung. _ I don’t care. _ I’d do it again. I’d do all of it again, just for you. It was worth it—it will always be worth it." _

Those words had only made him cry harder, curling into Hyunjin and holding onto him desperately. Hyunjin had let him stay like that, tiring himself out until he pulled Jisung up, forcing him into the shower and putting him in his favourite pyjamas—Hyunjin’s own clothes—and taking him to bed. It had been the middle of the afternoon, but they’d fallen asleep like that, wrapped up in each other, like they were the only people in the world. 

It had taken so much time, longer than Jisung would’ve liked, for Hyunjin and Seungmin to reconcile. 

Seungmin had felt betrayed, angry that Hyunjin had kept such vital information from him. But it was after Jisung had explained that it was at his request Hyunjin not tell a soul about his whereabouts, that Seungmin began to thaw. There was still resentment there, Jisung had known. Resentment and jealousy that Hyunjin—someone Jisung had hated—got to be the one to help Jisung when he couldn’t. But that too disappeared with time, until their relationship was mended and things were alright. 

"Seungmin told me you guys eloped," Minho said, diverting Jisung’s train of thought into a different direction. 

Minho frowned at the face he made - something that was somewhere between a smile and a gimance. While some might see eloping as some grand romantic gesture, to Jisung and Hyunjin it had been a bittersweet affair. Neither one of them regretted it. If anything, Jisung could still remember Hyunjin’s laughter, the way he’d peppered Jisung’s face with kisses after they’d left the chapel and stood on the stairs of the courthouse, both of them giggling but close to tears. They’d flown all the way to L.A. and the only people in attendance had been Hyunjin’s parents. Not even Seungmin had known what they were doing, having only found out when they’d returned to Korea a month later, after their honeymoon. 

Jisung’s parents had been furious, because they’d been the ones to forbid Jisung from marrying Hyunjin. They’d try to separate them countless times, going so far as to threaten disowning Jisung if he continued his relationship with Hyunjin. Jisung had only laughed at them, because he wasn’t afraid of disappearing from their lives again, the only reason he’d even reconicled with them being for Seungmin’s sake. 

"Yeah, we did,” Jisung said, sighing. “It was a bit spontaneous, but I wouldn't change it for anything in the world." 

He didn’t think there was anything about his relationship with Hyunjin that he would ever change. He saw their difficulties in the past as something that had made their bond grow stronger, go deeper. They’d been through the worst already, nothing else could ever come close to that, so there was nothing to worry about.

"You two seem very happy,” Minho said, and when Jisung focused on him once again, he was smiling somewhat absentmindedly, eyes distant. “I hope Seungmin and I can still be that happy after three years." 

"I hope so too, hyung," Jisung said, sincerely. He hoped all the happiness in the world for his brother, and looking at Minho in that moment, he wanted that for him too. He wanted the two of them to last, for both their sakes. 

Conversation flowed a bit easier after they’d gotten all of the heavy stuff out of the way. They spoke about trivial things, Minho telling Jisung interesting stories about his job and all the places he’d been to, Jisung sharing his own work adventures from the company. They found they had a few similar interests in food, dramas, even politics. Jisung thought Minho and Hyunjin would get along well, wondered if he should - loathe the thought - ask Seungmin if the four of them could hang out. 

An hour of so later found them standing outside of the building, tugging on their jackets and scarves. Jisung sent a quick text message to Hyunjin, telling him he’d be home soon, and Hyunjin only replied with a cute _ see you soon~ _and a heart. Jisung smiled at the message before pocketing his phone and turning back to Minho. 

"You know, this was nice. I had fun hanging out with you," Jisung said, watching Minho’s face morph into a wide smile. 

"Me too," Minho said. He gestured for Jisung’s phone which he handed over easily, watching Minho save his own number before giving his phone back. "We should do it again some time. Maybe even invite those husbands of ours."

They parted ways with a laugh, Jisung bidding Minho goodbye and heading to his car. 

Hyunjin was still awake when Jisung got home, splayed across their mattress, eyes glued to his phone. He smiled when Jisung approached, dropping a quick kiss on his forehead before detouring to the shower. When he reappeared, Hyunjin had gotten under the duvet, phone still in hand, turned on his side to watch as Jisung stepped out of the bathroom, eyes glassy. 

He crawled into bed alongside Hyunjin, settling himself easily into his husband’s side, head buried in the crook of Hyunjin’s neck. He left a soft kiss there, sneaking one arm around his waist and holding him close. Hyunjin was watching a drama on his phone, but judging from the way he kept slowly blinking at the screen, he was close to falling asleep. Jisung huffed, plucking the phone from Hyunjin’s grasp and locking it, putting it on charge and leaving it on the bedside table before returning to Hyunjin’s side, not a word of protest from his husband. 

“How did it go?” Hyunjin asked around a yawn, his eyes blurry. Jisung smiled to himself, pulling Hyunjin closer and tangling their legs, pressing his face into Hyunjin’s soft hair. 

“It went really well. Minho-hyung is nice,” Jisung said against Hyunjin’s hair. He would still admit that Minho didn’t particularly seem like Seungmin’s type, but then again nothing had ever worked out with anyone who was Seungmin’s type, so maybe the contrast was necessary. 

“I think you’d really like him.” 

Hyunjin only hummed in response, snuggling down until his face was smothered in Jisung’s chest. Jisung knew he was almost completely gone, breathing evening out. He laughed fondly, kissing Hyunjin’s temple before settling down as well. 

*

"I think something's going on with Hyunjin," Jisung said one night, nursing a drink in his hands. 

They were sitting at the bar that night, Minho next to him halfway through a bottle of soju. He had a much better tolerance than Jisung, who would’ve been done for one or two shots in. Minho’s cheeks were only slightly flushed, his eyes still clear, but he laughed more than usual, the only indicator that he was slightly inhibited.

Jisung on the other hand, had barely touched his drink, instead holding it in his palms and staring down at the dark brown liquid as if it had the answers to all his problems. 

After that first meeting, their hangouts had become an almost weekly thing. They enjoyed each other’s company well enough, and Minho didn’t mind discussing their husbands. It was the perfect arrangement, and Jisung found that with the more time he spent with Minho, Felix would be having competition in that best friend department. 

"Oh? Has he said something?" Minho asked, placing his shot glass on the counter and turning his attention to Jisung. 

Jisung shook his head, sighing. 

"No, that's the thing. He hasn't said anything to me—he's barely spoken to me in weeks. I keep trying to think of what I could've done wrong but…" Jisung trailed off, once again trying to think of anything he could have done or said for Hyunjin to have gotten _ this _upset, but just as with the last few days of overanalysing every single conversation they’d had for weeks, he came up empty. 

He lowered his head until it hung between his shoulders, shielding his face from the rest of the bar. He must look pathetic, sitting there with his head hung low, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

"It's like, one day everything was fine, and then suddenly I woke up and they weren't. I have no idea what to do." 

Jisung had noticed the moment things started feeling off, even slightly so. Whenever something was wrong, Hyunjin became distant. Not overly so, but enough to be noticeable to Jisung—who was always the centre of Hyunjin’s attention at most times. It started with stilted statements that lead to curt one-word replies, and escalated into not speaking at all. Jisung knew that sometimes Hyunjin had moods where he didn’t feel like talking, but this was different. 

"You should talk to him, maybe he doesn't want to be the one to bring up whatever's bothering him,” Minho said, sounding extremely reasonable even though that bottle of soju was almost finished. 

"I'll try but…" Jisung didn’t have any hope. 

This wasn’t like any of the other times Hyunjin had been upset with him. Usually Hyunjin spoke his mind, was direct and assertive, not wanting to draw unnecessary and uncomfortable things out for longer than he had to. He liked having a balance, and as he’d told Jisung in the past, fighting with him always made him feel wrong-footed and scared, as if everything would go wrong with a single push. He was never willing to risk things becoming bad enough that they were unable to be fixed. 

"I don’t know, hyung. I just—he's been so distant lately. Not just talking but… I can't even remember the last time he touched me,” Jisung said. 

Hyunjin was always someone who sought out physical comfort—handholding, hugs, kisses. It was in his nature to crave affection, and also to give it. But he’d withdrawn completely, he curled away when they laid down to sleep, he flinched away every time Jisung tried to hold his hand or even just touch his arm. Jisung could still remember the last time Hyunjin had kissed him. It was almost three weeks ago, on the cheek as he’d been leaving for work. 

“There's something wrong, I know there is, I just wish he would tell me what," Jisung said. He was beyond frustrated, with Hyunjin and with himself. Why couldn’t he just figure it out? It should’ve been easy, seeing as he knew Hyunjin like the back of his hand, but even he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was wrong this time. 

He felt insecure, inadequate. What kind of husband was he if he couldn’t even figure out why his own husband was upset? 

"Hey, you're not a mind reader,” Minho said, placing a gentle hand on Jisung’s arm and squeezing. Jisung looked up at him, knowing his face must have spoken volumes, because Minho’s expression softened even further. “No one expects you to magically know what's wrong."

"But that's just it," Jisung said, "I know him better than anyone else but now… I feel like I don't even know who he is anymore. It's like he's someone else."

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but if felt as though he were living with a stranger. It was worse than when they’d been younger, spitting hurtful words at each other, threatening violence. At least then they’d acknowledged each others’ existence. But now, there were times where it felt as if Hyunjin wasn’t fully there, as if he were looking _ through _Jisung but never actually seeing him. And that hurt more than anything ever could. 

"Whatever he's going through, he'll come to you eventually,” Minho said and when Jisung sent him a doubtful look, he shook his head, unimpressed. “He loves you, I know it. I've _ seen _ it. So, for now just trust him, okay?" 

Jisung knew Minho was right. Or, he _ hoped _Minho was right. 

Jisung had never doubted that Hyunjin loved him as his husband made it nearly impossible for him to forget. He always showered Jisung in love and praise and attention, showing it with words or actions, a simple kiss on the cheek or short text. Every day he made sure that Jisung knew he was loved. 

Which is why their current predicament felt so drastic. That love was missing. _ Hyunjin _was missing. And Jisung had no idea how to get him back. 

"I do, _ of course _ I do but," Jisung paused, remembering one night, when he’d woken alone in bed and gone in search of Hyunjin, only to find his husband sitting in complete darkness in the living room, vacant look on his face, eyes so dark they’d scared Jisung. He’d never, in his years of knowing Hyunjin, seen his husband with that expression. 

It _ terrified _him. 

"He's hurting, hyung. I can see it. I can _ feel _ it. I just want to take that pain away, I want to make things better. If only he'd just let me."

He would do _ anything _to take Hyunjin’s pain away, and even if he couldn’t do that, the least he could do was help him carry it, to bear it with him so he wouldn’t feel so alone. Hyunjin had been there every single time Jisung had fallen. He hadn’t picked him up, instead helping him a little more each time. Comforting words and touches, gentle coaxing, and helpful guidance. All Jisung wanted to do was give Hyunjin everything his husband had ever given him. 

"Maybe he's scared," Minho said, and Jisung’s had snapped up. 

"Scared? Of _ me _?" Jisung asked incredulously. "Why would he ever—?"

"Not scared of you but just scared of losing you, hurting you,” Minho said, causing Jisung to pause. 

Hadn’t that been Jisung at one point? Too scared to cast his burdens upon someone else, so he kept them all to himself. He hurt himself so that he wouldn’t hurt others. He’d buried his feelings so deep down until one day they’d overflowed and he’d almost drowned in them. 

And _ again, _ it had been Hyunjin throwing him a lifesaver. No, Hyunjin _ was _the lifesaver. Jisung had no idea where he would’ve been had Hyunjin not reappeared in his life. He wasn’t sure if he would’ve even still been around. 

Jisung didn’t know what could’ve made Hyunjin feel the same way he had, all those years ago. So helpless and terrified and desperate. So _ alone. _

And that was the whole point of marriage, right? To not be alone, to always have someone there with you in the best of times and the worst. It was always going to be difficult, Jisung had known that from the beginning. But he hadn’t known it would cut and hurt and _ bleed _this much. 

"Hyung, he could do his absolute worst to me," Jisung said, his voice cracking on the words, raw and painful in his throat. "I'll still be here." 

Minho looked at him seriously then, eyes assessing his face. He must have found whatever he had been looking for, because he nodded, in what Jisung assumed was approval. 

"You'll just have to show him that,” Minho said, his gaze still fixed on Jisung’s face, unwavering. He’d never seen Minho look that severe, but it was as if he seemed older than he truly was. The harsh lighting of the bar made the sharp lines of his face darker, and for once Jisung could see just how tired he was. 

"I will," Jisung said, voice small but strong. "I'll make sure he knows." 

"Good," Minho said, dredging up a small smile—one Jisung could tell was for his sake and not Minho’s own. "You two are perfect you know, in your own way. Out of everyone I've ever met, I think you'll be the lucky ones." 

Neither of them said much for the rest of the hour, instead finishing their drinks in silence and leaving. Jisung walked Minho to his car, the cool night air sobering him up a bit, not that he was that intoxicated, he didn’t even feel lightly buzzed. If anything, the alcohol in his system made him feel heavier, the weight on his chest increasing with every breath. He knew that had more to do with the overall situation than the alcohol, but things were always easier to blame on alcohol, weren’t they?

"Minho-hyung…” Jisung hesitated when they reached Minho’s car. “Are you and Seungmin having problems?" 

That was something Jisung had only recently noticed. There was a tension between Minho and Seungmin, one that had only grown as time went on. Minho hadn’t talked to Jisung about it, which made him hesitant to ask. Minho was a direct person, and if he had a problem he’d voice it immediately. So Jisung had played it off, told himself he was imagining things. But now, as he watched Minho avert his gaze and bite down on his lower lip, he knew he’d been right. 

Sometimes, Jisung hated being right. 

"No, we're fine," Minho said, but it sounded unconvincing to both of them. He let out a long breath, turning to Jisung with a pained expression, his eyes shining in the moonlight. "Or well, we're trying to be. We're working on it."

Jisung’s heart ached for him. And for Seungmin too. His heart broke and shattered for Hyunjin most of all. 

"I hope it works out for you two," Jisung said, as sincerely as he could. "For both of us." 

"Me too, Jisungie." 

*

Being there for Hyunjin was even harder than Jisung had thought it would be. And it only got worse as time went on. 

He tried and tried and _ tried _ until he had nothing left in him. But still, he never stopped. Hyunjin had never, not once given up on him. Bearing with this was the _ least _ Jisung could do. The slightest bit of misery was a small price to pay for all the happiness they’d had in the past. All the happiness they _ would _have in the future, because despite how hard it was, Jisung knew they’d get through it. He knew that this feeling was temporary. Things would change, eventually. 

For now, he’d just have to keep trying. He didn’t _ want _to give up either. He was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted, and all he wanted was to have his husband back to normal, but he would wait however long that took to happen. In the end, Hyunjin had always been worth waiting for. 

*

A few days after his last meetup with Minho, Jisung was alone in the studio, Chan having just left to get lunch with one of his many, _ many _friends. He picked up his phone and dialed Hyunjin’s number. It only took a few rings for Hyunjin to answer—which was a miracle, considering he usually let the phone go to voicemail or outright rejected Jisung’s calls these days. 

"Hey, baby," Jisung said, closing his eyes. "I miss you." 

For a moment he allowed himself to imagine things were back to the way they used to be. He could easily conjure up a memory, almost identical to the present, where Hyunjin would giggle and say _ but you just saw me this morning. _But things weren’t like that anymore, and instead Hyunjin’s reply came a bit cold and stiff. 

"I… miss you too," Hyunjin said, his voice faraway. Jisung ignored the twisting knot in his chest as it squeezed his lungs, making every breath more painful than the last. He swallowed thickly, taking a moment to get his bearing before forcing out an even tone. 

"So, I was thinking I could get off work early and we could go out. I know it's been a while, so I wanted to make it up to you,” Jisung said, keeping his tone light. There was a long pause on Hyunjin’s end, and Jisung’s stomach churned with nerves. 

"That's sweet, Sung-ah," Hyunjin said, and there was the smallest hint of the old Hyunjin, _ his _Hyunjin. It was gone as quickly as it had come, Jisung being doused in ice as Hyunjin spoke again. "But I can't tonight. My manager asked me to stay late—for this whole week." 

Jisung bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood, but he didn’t feel the pain of it. It felt as if his whole body was in pain, _ aching. _ There was a knife plunged deep into his chest, right between the ribs, piercing his heart. And every time Hyunjin was silent, where he flinched away from Jisung as if his touch physically hurt him, looked at Jisung as if he wasn’t even there, that knife twisted and twisted and _ twisted. _

"Oh, that's okay," Jisung said, his voice surprisingly steady for how frustrated he truly was. "Another time then. I really want to spend some time with just the two of us. It feels like it's been so long." 

There was another pause, and Jisung was afraid he’d said the wrong thing. Then again, everything he said these days felt like the wrong thing. 

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Hyunjin said, and it sounded like he actually meant it. 

"It's not your fault," Jisung said, because really, he didn’t think it was. He’d never blame Hyunjin for his feelings, even if they hurt him. "So I guess I won't be seeing you tonight." 

"No, I'm sorry,” Hyunjin said, and again, it was sincere. Jisung didn’t know when the last time he’d heard Hyunjin speak with any emotion in his voice was. He always sounded so… hollow. 

"It's okay. I'll miss you though. I always miss you."

Jisung hadn’t meant to let that slip, but it was true. He missed Hyunjin in every way possible. Yes, he missed _ his _ Hyunjin, the one that held him, and laughed with him, and shined brighter than the sun. But even this Hyunjin, as unfamiliar and sometimes difficult as he was to deal with, was his as well. And he _ missed _him. 

"I'll miss you too." He said it so softly, as if whispering a treasured secret. 

And for a moment, all the pain he’d been hiding from Jisung, all the hurt and despair, the secrets he’d been keeping, seemed to be laid out. Jisung choked on it, as if he could feel Hyunjin’s own sadness flowing into him. It was _ suffocating. _He didn’t know how Hyunjin could stand to bear it on his own. Jisung surely would’ve broken already. But Hyunjin had always been the stronger one of them. Stubborn, recklessly so. 

"I've got to go."

"Bye, I love—" Jisung said, but was greeted with a dial tone. 

"...you." 

*

Weeks had gone by, and to Jisung's distress, things had only gotten worse. Jisung hadn’t thought that would’ve been possible, but apparently it was. 

Hyunjin looked like _ hell. _ There were permanent dark circles under his eyes, his skin pale and gaunt. He’d lost so much weight. Jisung was terrified beyond belief. He had no idea what was happening, and Hyunjin _ still _wouldn’t tell him, silently insisting that he could handle everything by himself. Jisung tried to help, even in the smallest of ways, but that only made Hyunjin retreat more. 

If Jisung had built up walls before, Hyunjin seemed to have built a fortress. And Jisung was afraid that he’d never be able to find his way inside. To help tear it down, or at least just keep him company within its walls. 

"I don't know if we can work this out, hyung,” Jisung said, on the point of frustrated tears. He was on the couch of Minho and Seungmin’s apartment, sitting next to Minho, though his brother was nowhere to be seen. Though maybe that was a good thing. He wouldn’t want to put Seungmin in the middle of this mess. 

Jisung wanted to _ scream, _ release some of the pressure that had been building in his chest for months now, but he _ couldn’t. _

Hyunjin _ needed _ him, even if he refused to admit it. He wouldn’t give up. He _ couldn’t. _

_ “ _I don't know what to do. He won't talk to me; he won't even look at me. It's like he doesn't even love me anymore." 

Jisung choked on the words, and the sob he’d been holding in for so long crawled out of his throat. Minho’s arms came around him then, drawing him close and hugging him tightly. Jisung cried until his eyes were swollen and his throat raw, every shuddering breath excruciating, his head pounding. Minho held him through it all, never once wavering. Jisung felt bad that Minho had to constantly be dealing with his problems when he already had his own. 

"Don't say that," Minho said, stroking Jisung’s hair. "Whatever's going on right now, don't doubt that he loves you." 

"He won't even say it," Jisung sobbed, his voice cracking. "I don’t—_ I can't _ —it hurts so bad hyung, it _ hurts _." 

"I know," Minho said, squeezing Jisung even tighter. Jisung’s entire frame shook as he cried into Minho’s shoulder, sobs growing louder but he couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t stop crying because everything hurt and he wanted it to stop. He wanted Hyunjin back. He wanted him happy, and healthy and _ okay. _

"Just hang in there. It will get better," Minho said, and Jisung shook his head, pulling away to look at Minho with a heartbroken expression. 

"You don't know that,” Jisung said, his voice hoarse and broken.

"Well, it can't get any worse?" Minho asked, and Jisung almost scoffed. As time had proven, things could _ always _get worse. Minho seemed to realise this, because he looked away for a moment, his face going through a range of emotions before his eyes settled on Jisung once again. 

"Look, something is obviously wrong—_ very _ wrong. You said he's never acted like this before, which means whatever happened with him must've been something truly terrible. I know it's hard right now, but you have to hang in there." 

Minho always knew the exact right thing to say. Even if Jisung didn’t want to hear it, he said what he _ needed _to hear. 

"I know—I just miss him,” Jisung said, trying to catch his breath, chest stuttering on every inhale. “I miss _ my _ Hyunjin. I'm trying my best to be there, but he keeps pushing me away and I don't understand." 

"Do you think he's worth it?" Minho asked, voice serious. 

"What?" Jisung blinked up at him. 

"Do you think he's worth it?” Minho asked again, face grave. “Worth fighting for, worth staying for?" 

"I—" Jisung stopped. He didn’t even have to think about it, because the answer would always be, "Yes. _ Yes _." 

"Then just bear with him a little while longer. He'll come to you, or at least allow you to come to him. It sucks right now but when it's over you'll both be stronger. Trust me on this."

Jisung had no other choice but to trust him. 

*

In the end, things came to a head in the most unexpected way possible. And yet, it all made complete sense that all bad things started and ended with his parents. 

They had all avoided family dinner for long enough that their parents had begun to get restless, demanding to see their children. So Jisung had broached the subject as gently as he could, saying he could go alone if Hyunjin wasn’t feeling up to it, but his husband had just shook his head sharply and said he was going. 

That’s how he found himself sitting next to Hyunjin, Seungmin and Minho sitting opposite them, their parents at the heads of the table. They’d just finished an, admittedly, awkward dinner and were finishing off what was left of the wine. The table had been mostly silent for most of the night, the two couples steadily avoiding eye contact with everyone. This seemed to go unnoticed by their parents, who carried on as if it were just another Sunday night dinner. 

"Seungmin," their mother broke the silence. 

When Jisung looked at her, her face was an impassive mask. He knew nothing good could come from that.

"Your father and I have some… deeply… disturbing news to share with you. Usually we wouldn't do it this way but it seems it's necessary."

Jisung didn’t roll his eyes, though he wanted to. Leave it to his mother to reveal whatever important news she’d learned in the most dramatic way possible. Because what was this family if not dramatic?

"I'm sure it can't be that serious, mom—" Seungmin said, the disinterest Jisung felt evident in his brother’s tone. 

"Minho is cheating on you.”

Jisung choked. Next to him Hyunjin went absolutely still. Minho’s expression, for the first time Jisung had ever seen, was _ furious. _

"What—?" Seungmin asked, obviously confused. 

"With Jisung," his father continued where his mother left off. 

_ "WHAT—?" _both Seungmin and Jisung shouted, affronted. 

"What the fuck are you talking about,” Jisung growled, glaring at his mother. 

He quickly diverted his attention to the most important person in the room, but Hyunjin was already pushing his chair back and leaving. Jisung hurried after him, not sparing a glance back as he grabbed Hyunjin’s arm to keep him in place. 

“I'm not—Minho-hyung and I are not—Hyunjin no, it's not true, I promise it's not—fuck," Jisung said, the explanation tumbling out incoherently. He fought to calm himself down, to think rationally and explain as best he could even though _ there was nothing to explain. _

"Baby, please,” Jisung said desperately, grabbing both of Hyunjin’s hands in his own. “I have no idea what she's talking about, but Minho-hyung and me are not doing anything together. We never have and never will. I love you—you have to know that I would never hurt you, I promise.”

It almost looked as if Hyunjin believed him—or _ wanted _to believe him—but then his gaze went dark and he ripped himself out of Jisung’s grasp, storming to the door. 

“Hyunjin,” Jisung shouted, chasing after him. “_Hyunjin, please _—!”

*

They had descended into silence the moment they entered their home, Hyunjin stalking forward and throwing the apartment door open with reckless force, disappearing down the hallway in the direction of their bedroom. 

Jisung didn't follow him—although he wanted to, more than anything—and instead stood in the living room, not knowing what to do with himself. His hands were trembling as he searched for different words, because the words he'd said over and over again, at his parents' house, in the car as they drove home, as they rode the elevator, had been ignored. 

_ It's not what you think. Nothing happened between us, I promise. I love you. Only you. _

But Hyunjin had stayed quiet, hadn't even glanced in his direction, gaze fixed ahead and expression blank. Jisung didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to explain, because even when he did it seemed that Hyunjin didn't believe him. 

The floors creaked and his head shot up. He watched as Hyunjin appeared in the doorway, and the feeling of dread and disbelief washed over him like ice as he caught sight of the A4 sized envelope in Hyunjin's hand. 

_ No _, Jisung thought desperately, his hands clenched into fists to stop their shaking. Hyunjin walked forward, gently opening the envelope and placing the documents on the table along with a pen. Jisung couldn't believe this was happening. 

"Sign them," Hyunjin said softly, avoiding Jisung's gaze. 

Jisung stared at him, unable to comprehend what was happening because there was no way—_ no way _—Hyunjin was asking him to sign fucking divorce papers. 

"Hyunjin-ah, I swear to you _ nothing _ happened between me and Minho-hyung," Jisung said, trying to step forward and touch him, but Hyunjin flinched away, as he'd been doing for months now. 

"I don't care," Hyunjin said, but there was a slight tremor in his voice. And that tremor told Jisung everything he wanted to know. "Just sign the papers."

"Look, let's just talk about this first please? We don't have to do this—" Jisung said, because they _ didn't _, because he hadn't done anything and he would spend however long explaining and begging and proving to Hyunjin that he would never cheat on him. 

How could he? Hyunjin was his whole world, even when he pulled away, even when he shot Jisung with icy glares and words as sharp as razors. Even now, when he was hurting Jisung—hurting _ both _ of them—beyond measure, Jisung still loved him. 

He didn't know how not to love Hyunjin. 

"Just sign the fucking papers, Jisung," Hyunjin said, desperation leaking into his tone. 

And that—that confused Jisung. _ Why _? Why did Hyunjin want him to sign those papers so badly? Did he want to be rid of him, to end their marriage? Was that truly what he wanted? 

Because it didn't look that way. Not with the way his entire body was shaking, the way he avoided Jisung's eyes, because he knew—they both knew—that Jisung would be able to see right through him. 

"Why are you doing this?" Jisung finally asked. If Hyunjin knew nothing had happened between Jisung and Minho, then why was he so insistent? 

"I said—"

"I heard what you said," Jisung said, more harshly than he'd intended. But he was so… frustrated. Hyunjin had spent months pulling away from him—all but shoving Jisung away—and now this? Jisung didn't understand. 

"Now tell me why? Why should I sign them?" Jisung asked, softly this time. Hyunjin was still not looking at him. 

"_ Jisung _," Hyunjin said, the desperate edge to his voice becoming more prominent but Jisung didn't care. 

He would get the truth out of Hyunjin, no matter how long it took. He refused to let this happen, refused to let the person he loved more than anyone—more than himself—just walk away without an explanation. 

"_ Hyunjin _," he said, desperately, as if the sound of his name alone would snap him out of whatever spell he'd been put under. 

"_ Please _ just—just sign them," Hyunjin was more pleading now, and when his eyes finally met Jisung's, they were tearful and bloodshot. 

Jisung's heart ached at the sight. He wanted desperately to surge forward, to draw Hyunjin into his arms and hold him tightly. God, he couldn't even remember the last time they'd touched. 

"No," Jisung said, lifting his chin and clenching his jaw. 

"Jisung, _ please. _" 

He could see Hyunjin grinding his teeth but he didn't care. He would not change his mind until Hyunjin told him the truth, why he was really doing this. And even then, he was not giving up, he wasn't letting Hyunjin go so easily. 

"No," Jisung said, shaking his head. He shoved the papers away, and they slid down the table, closer to where Hyunjin stood. "I won't."

"Please just sign the papers, _ please— _"

Why? Jisung wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and cry and slam his fists into the wall and break down. But he couldn't do any of those things, he could only stand there and bear it, silently. 

"I will if you will," Jisung said, darkly. He slid the pen across the table, towards Hyunjin, who was standing stiffly, staring at Jisung.

"If you really want this, I'll do it."

Jisung was certain that something else was happening, that there was something Hyunjin wasn't telling him. If Hyunjin had really wanted this, his signature would have already been on that page, he wouldn't be insisting that Jisung be the first to sign. 

Jisung was certain of this, especially when Hyunjin made no move to reach for the pen, his gaze still locked on Jisung. 

"Sign the papers, Hyunjin-ah," Jisung said, motioning to the papers. "I'll only sign them if you do."

And that was true. He wouldn't force Hyunjin to stay with him. And if this was really what Hyunjin wanted—though Jisung knew, without a doubt, that it wasn't—then he'd honor Hyunjin's wishes. After all, he'd never been able to deny Hyunjin anything. From the second they'd met, Jisung had known. 

Hwang Hyunjin would be the end of him.

_ "Sung-ah _..." Hyunjin said softly, voice breaking on the end. Jisung almost flinched at the nickname, having not heard it in so long.

The tears that had gathered in Hyunjin's eyes threatened to fall. Jisung ached to rush forward, catch them before they fell and brush them away. But he didn't, stayed rooted to the spot and waited, as he'd been doing for months already.

"Sign them if that's what you want so badly," was what he said instead. 

A sharp shard of fear pierced through Jisung's chest as he watched Hyunjin step forward and pick up the pen, hand hovering over the page. He was so sure he'd been right—_ so sure _ Hyunjin wouldn't actually go through with it, because there was no way that this was what he really wanted—but for a second, fear stronger than anything he'd ever felt in his life struck him, filling him with a sense of dread and sorrow. He held his breath as he watched Hyunjin put the pen to paper, his heart hammering in his chest. There was a lump in his throat, and he knew he would start crying the minute Hyunjin put down his signature, but—

Hyunjin threw the pen against the wall, shattering the outer casing, the sound of it breaking like a gunshot in the deafening silence of the apartment. 

A sound escaped Hyunjin's throat, so pained and broken, it tore through Jisung like a bullet. He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself as he began to sob. 

Jisung rushed forward without a second thought, falling to his knees beside Hyunjin and gathering him in his arms, persistent even when Hyunjin fought against him, trying to pull away. Jisung wouldn't let him, not this time, the way he'd been letting Hyunjin pull away the last few months. This time he'd hold on as tightly as he could. 

Hyunjin struggled in his arms, broken sobs crawling out of his chest, so rough Jisung knew they must be painful. Jisung’s hold tightened, and he whispered nonsensical words into Hyunjin’s ear, hoping to calm him even a little bit. It took a long time before Hyunjin’s sobs turned to quiet gasps, and soon enough his fingers were gripping the front of Jisung’s shirt, holding on as if he were afraid Jisung would suddenly disappear.

“I’m here,” Jisung said against his hair, rocking Hyunjin back-and-forth, until he stopped shaking.

Jisung drew back, and Hyunjin made a pained sound at the back of his throat, clutching onto Jisung and trying to pull him back down. His face was wet with tears, eyes red and swollen. He looked so scared—so _ young— _like a child being taken away from their parents.

The fact that he _ still _ didn’t know what caused Hyunjin to feel that way—to make him print out fucking _ divorce _ papers—ate away at Jisung. He wrapped his arms around Hyunjin’s waist and hauled him up onto the couch, settling down next to him and tangling their limbs together. Hyunjin didn’t hesitate to bury his face in Jisung’s neck, his tears wetting Jisung’s skin as he silently cried. Jisung ran a hand through his hair, humming under his breath the way he knew usually helped to calm Hyunjin’s nerves. He closed his eyes as his husband fell apart in his hold, _ finally _giving into whatever weight that had been pressing down on him for so long.

Jisung didn’t know how long they stayed like that, wrapped around each other so completely they might as well have been one person. It must have been hours before was sniffling, lifting his head to look at Jisung’s face, his expression heartbreakingly open.

Jisung could see it all. The pain and guilt and desperation he’d been hiding from Jisung for months was all there, painted across his face like some gut-wrenching photograph. He lifted his hands to gently cup Hyunjin’s cheeks, brushing away the tears, and cradling his head as if he were about to break.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin choked out, more tears flowing freely. He gasped around another sob. _ “I’m so sorry, Jisung.” _

“It’s okay,” Jisung whispered, and Hyunjin shook his head, trying half-heartedly to pull away but failing when Jisung refused to let go.

“It’s not—I hurt you. I hurt you so much. I ruined everything,” Hyunjin said, his voice cracking on the words. He started shaking again. “I wish I wasn’t like this. I wanted to be _ better, _I wanted to be—”

He cut himself off, looking away from. His throat worked on the words he was keeping at bay, but Jisung wouldn’t let him continue with this silence any longer.

“Hyunjin… _ please,” _Jisung begged, forcing Hyunjin’s eyes back to him. Hyunjin’s eyes were wide, the fear evident. Minho’s words came back to him then.

_ Maybe he’s afraid. _

“Talk to me,” Jisung said. He didn’t know if it was his earnestness or desperation that caused Hyunjin to crack, but his husband let out a strangled sound, closing his eyes tightly.

_ “Enough,” _ Hyunjin gasped, as if the word itself pained him. “I just wanted to be _ enough _for you.”

Anger so fierce and vicious roared through is blood at those words, his vision tinting red. His hands shook where they were cradling Hyunjin’s face, and he had to take a deep, measured breath before he sent his anger in the wrong direction.

“Who?” Jisung asked, not specifying what he meant because Hyunjin already knew.

Hyunjin shook his head, tears forming again. Jisung sat up, pulling him closer until their faces were centimetres apart. His gaze was unwavering as he stared into Hyunjin’s eyes.

“Who said you weren’t enough?” Jisung asked, as gently as he could with his blood singing and raging in his veins.

“No one,” Hyunjin said, averting his gaze. “It doesn’t matter.”

_ “Yes, it does,” _ Jisung almost growled. Hyunjin’s eyes shot up to his face, taking in his furious expression for the first time. “It matters. _ You _matter. Whoever told you that—whoever made you feel that way—doesn’t deserve to see another day on this planet. I will find them, and I will make sure they understand exactly what pain feels like.”

Hyunjin’s bottom lip quivered, his expression crumbling as his body slumped forward. Jisung caught him easily, arms wrapping around his neck, lips pressed to his ear as he continued to whisper reassurances.

They descended into silence yet again, only the sound of Hyunjin’s ragged breathing and Jisung’s low murmuring echoing through the room.

“I… lost my job,” Hyunjin said, his voice muffled by the fabric of Jisung’s shirt, but still clear enough for Jisung to make out the words. Jisung frowned, pulling back a little to look down at the mop of hair splattered across his chest.

“Is… that it?” Jisung asked, tone gentle. Jisung had to admit, he’d been expecting something worse. Something life changing, maybe even horrifying. But this was so _ normal. _ It didn’t seem like Hyunjin to get _ this _upset over it.

“What—?” Hyunjin sat up, pulling away until he was towering over Jisung with a glare. “Jisung, _ I lost my job.” _

Jisung’s frown deepened. As far as Jisung knew, Hyunjin hadn’t been particularly attached to his job. He enjoyed it, sure, but even he had voiced frustrations about having received no promotions despite being one of their best employees. They’d even talked about Hyunjin moving studios, applying to different companies.

“Hyunjin, it’s just a job. It happens sometimes, but… you’ll get another one. Or you don’t even have to at all. It doesn’t matter to me, as long as you’re happy,” Jisung said. He couldn’t understand why Hyunjin looked so shell-shocked by those words.

“You—you really don’t care?” Hyunjin asked, voice small and Jisung shook his head vehemently. Hyunjin bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to almost draw blood. “She said you would.”

Jisung went rigid.

“Who said I would?” Jisung asked carefully, though he could venture a good guess. He hoped he was wrong, but he knew he wasn’t.

Hyunjin’s eyes darted to him before going downcast again. He hesitated only a moment before he answered.

“Your mother.”

Of course. Everything always began and ended with his parents. Why would this time be any different?

“When did she —?” Jisung asked, stopping to clear his throat when he couldn’t get the words out. “What happened?”

“She came over one afternoon, when you weren’t here,” Hyunjin said. He stopped and took a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his gaze was glazed over and distant.

“They’d just sent me the notice. I opened it and left it on the counter. She s-saw it and—”

Hyunjin choked, curling in on himself. Jisung tried to reach out to him, but he moved away. It wasn’t the same way he’d kept flinching over the last few months, like he couldn’t bear Jisung’s touch. Now Jisung could see it. He knew that if he touched him, Hyunjin would splinter apart. He let his hands fall to the couch, waiting for Hyunjin to continue.

“She _ laughed _ at me. She said she always knew something like this would happen—that I would fail. She told me I shouldn’t have married you, that I was holding you back. At least you had made something out of yourself, while I’d worked so hard to become…nothing. She said I was _ nothing. _And I—I believed her.”

Jisung couldn’t breathe. That knife that he been sitting in his chest for so long, the one that kept twisting, shifted and cut right into his heart. He didn’t think as he lunged forward, clutching Hyunjin to his chest so tightly he may have been cutting off his blood circulation.

“I’m sorry, Sung-ah,” Hyunjin shook with every word. “I hurt you so much. I’ve been so awful to you. _ I’m so sorry.” _

“Don’t apologise,” Jisung said, kissing his temple. “Don’t _ ever _ apologise.”

“But —”

“But _ nothing, _ ” Jisung hissed. He pulled back to look at Hyunjin’s face, eyes pleading. “And _ don’t you dare _ listen to her. She’s _ wrong. _ She’s always been wrong. About me, about you, and everything else. Everything she said doesn’t matter— _ she _ doesn’t matter, especially not to me. I thought I’d made I clear that we could be back in that shitty old apartment, _ we could be on the street, _ I wouldn’t care if I had you. Don’t you understand? You’re _ it. _You’re everything I want. I can so without everything else, but I can’t live without you.”

Jisung hadn’t realised he was crying as well, until Hyunjin lifted one hand and brushed his tears away. He smiled, but it was a sad thing, more like a ghost of a smile than an actual smile.

“I wanted to believe that. I _ do _ believe that but…” Hyunjin sighed. “I was so afraid that she was right. Even though everything in me was telling me that she wasn’t, I couldn’t think clearly. I was _ scared. _Scared you’d leave me, that you’d realise you could find someone better. I let her get to me and I’ve never been so ashamed.”

“Trust me when I say I know what that’s like,” Jisung said, letting out a watery laugh.

He was well acquainted with his mother’s specific brand of terrorism. She preyed on every weakness that was presented to her, was relentless in her torture, and made people feel insignificant. How he wished he’d never exposed Hyunjin to his parents and their labyrinth of pain and suffering.

“But she’s _ wrong. _I don’t care how many times I have to say it. If I have to say it every day to prove it to you, I will. You’re perfect,” Jisung said, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Hyunjin’s. “I love you so much. I don’t think I could stop loving you even if I tried.”

“I love you too,” Hyunjin whispered. And _ fuck, _ it had been so long since Jisung had heard those words. He couldn’t say he’d forgotten what they sounded like, because he’d been replaying those memories for so long now. But to hear it _ again, _to hear it out loud and from the person he loved more than anyone else in the world? Everything fell into place once again. All the fear and doubt and worry that had built up over the last few months disappeared.

That heavy weight that had been suffocating him lifted, and he could finally _ breathe _again.

They stayed like that, foreheads pressed together as they spoke with soft words, hands entwined. For the first time in months, Hyunjin _ smiled— _small as it was—and Jisung felt happy. Laughter mingled with tears, and they both spoke until their throats were raw and voices gone.

Not once did they let go of each other. And they never would again.

*

Jisung stood in front of his parents’ house with a blank expression on his face. That same anger that had boiled his blood nights ago, when Hyunjin had explained everything, was still burning within him, but it was distant. Dormant. He knew one wrong word from them and he’d explode, and he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d affected him—and Hyunjin—so deeply.

He took a deep breath, not bothering with the doorbell as he stepped inside and closed the door. He walked through the house that he had never truly called home, just walls with decorative pictures of a false family that didn’t exist. He came to a stop when one photograph caught his eye. It was small, drowned out by the others in their extravagant, golden frames.

It was a picture of him and Seungmin, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, faces grinning up at whoever was holding the camera. They looked so _ happy. _Jisung couldn’t imagine that either of their parents had taken that photo.

His eyes lingered over that picture for a few moments before he stepped away and headed towards the living room.

He found his parents seated across from one another on the lounge chairs, his father engrossed in a novel and his mother browsing through a catalogue. They both looked up when Jisung entered, surprise overcoming their features. 

"Jisung," his mother said, placing her magazine on the table and standing, her arms outstretched in greeting as she took a step towards him. He stepped back, avoiding her touch. 

Her arms lowered, hurt and anger morphing her face from something that was usually beautiful, into a nasty, cruel expression. He didn't care. Looking at her now, he felt nothing but disgust. 

This was the woman that had hurt his husband—had torn him down and made him feel worthless. Flashes of Hyunjin—sobbing in his arms, voice broken and desperate, skin pale and bones peaking out through his flesh—were brought to the forefront of his mind. The anger that had been lying dormant began to bubble to the surface. 

"I have let you two make me feel like I was worthless for my entire life," Jisung said, voice low and threatening. "You didn't have to say but I always knew. I was never good enough for you. I would always have to _ earn _ my place, because I was _ so lucky _ that you even took me in. And I _let_ you make me feel that way. But I can't— _ I won't— _ let you do the same to my husband." 

"Jisung please, I have no idea what you're talking about," his mother tried to lie, but he barked out a laugh. 

"You must really think I'm fucking _ stupid," _ Jisung said, ignoring his father's disapproving words and focusing his attention on his mother. "I left because I _ hated _ stayed here. Because I hated _ you. _ I couldn't stand to be in this house, I would've rather died out there than spend another moment stuck in here with both of you. The only reason I came back was because Seungmin asked me to. And I love him. But you— _ both _of you—I could go my entire life without having to ever you see again."

"You ungrateful brat—" his father yelled and Jisung laughed again. 

"_Fuck you," _ Jisung said. "You come into _ my _ house, and dare to speak to _ my _ husband like you know _ anything _ about him. Did you really think I would never find out? What did you think was going to happen? Was I supposed to come running to you, beg you to take me in and find someone else _ you _ deemed worthy?" 

Jisung laughed at the thought—at the _ audacity. _

"You've never really understood me, have you? I thought it was obviously by now. I'd choose Hyunjin, over you, over _ everyone else_, any day. It's always been him, it's always _ going _to be him, and nothing you do is going to change that. And since you can't seem to accept that, you won't have to." 

His mother's eyes widened at the words, her mouth that had been floundering to try and find the right excuses, clicked shut. 

"You don't mean—?" She asked, slightly out of breath. Maybe, years ago, he would have felt a slight pang in his chest at the sadness on her face. But now, he felt nothing. He felt _ numb_. 

"Don't call me—don't try to contact me at all. I never want to see either one of you again. I'm done. _ I'm done. _" 

"Son, please—" his father pleaded, but Jisung only shook his head. 

"I'm not your son. I never have been," he said.

The truth should've been painful, but it was actually freeing. He dredged up a small, polite smile, the one his parents used to often on others at parties and events. So condescending and superficial. 

"Goodbye Han-ssi," he said. The finality in his tone could not be disputed. He turned to leave, the shocked silence blanketing the room. 

He stopped by that picture once more, taking one final look at the smiling faces of those little boys who had no idea where they were heading. He memorized the smile on his brother's face, wide and bright and _ free. _

His eyes fell on himself then, his own chubby face staring up at him with a mischievous grin. He smiled to himself. 

_ You have no idea where you're going, kid, _ he thought. _ But I can guarantee you'll love where you end up. _

He walked out the door of his parents' house for the last time. 

He didn't look back. 

*

There were many times Jisung hated being right. Now was not one of those times. 

He had known Hyunjin would like Minho—knew they'd get along easily. After the initial awkwardness of their first meetings had begun to diminish, Hyunjin and Minho took to each other quite well. They had many similar interests, getting lost in discussions about the dramas they watched, talking about dance and Minho excitedly telling Hyunjin all about his plan to expand his business to America and Europe. 

It warmed Jisung's heart to see them interact. He was so glad all that bullshit his parents had caused didn't hinder their relationship. 

Jisung had been a bit worried about that at first, but Hyunjin had only laughed at him. 

_ "I know there's nothing between you two. Your mother was just using that as an excuse to make things worse. I trust you. I've always trusted you." _

Jisung must have done something amazing in his past life to deserve Hyunjin, that was the only explanation. 

Jisung sat back, letting the two of them get lost in conversation while he zoned out. They included him every now and then, but he was quickly forgotten as they changed subjects, not that he minded. He liked hearing their voices mingle, their laughter ringing through the room. 

Next to him, Seungmin was also watching them with rapt fascination. Or well, he was watching Minho. Jisung watched as his brother's eyes flickered over Minho's face, as if painstakingly memorizing every detail. His heart constricted as he watched Seungmin, so obviously in pain but so used to hiding it. 

Jisung knew what would be coming soon, even if he didn't say it out loud. He just hoped both Seungmin and Minho would survive it. 

"They're cute, aren't they?" Hyunjin said later when they returned to their apartment. These days he held Jisung's hand in a death grip, like he was afraid Jisung would disappear at any second if he didn't hold on tight enough. 

It was an unfortunate side effect of the psychological torture he'd endured. There were times when he still flinched away from Jisung's touch, and other times where he held on desperately as if he could keep Jisung with him at all times. He spoke more, not as much as he used to, but that was okay. It was a work in progress, and Jisung saw the development every day. There were times where he relapsed, retreating into the fortress he'd built in his mind, and Jisung would patiently wait until he resurfaced. 

It was easier now, the waiting. Unlike before, when he'd felt helpless—never knowing if he was doing the right thing, if there was a light at the end of the pitch black tunnel—he had the reassurance that both he and Hyunjin would come out on the other side, unscathed. 

"Yeah," Jisung agreed, not having the heart to tell his husband of what was to come. Instead he sent Hyunjin a cheeky smile and kissed his cheek, "But they're not as cute as us." 

Hyunjin giggled at that, gathering Jisung into his arms and kissing him soundly. Jisung hummed against his lips, warmth spreading through his body and setting his blood buzzing. He was pleasantly light-headed when they pulled away, both breathless. 

Two weeks later, his brother showed up on his doorstep one evening, eyes downcast and expression severe as he said, "We're getting a divorce." 

Jisung had dragged him inside without another word, wrapping his arms around his brother, letting Seungmin hang onto him desperately, sobbing into his shoulder. 

Jisung had known this was coming, though he wished he could've spared both of them the pain of it. 

"We moved too fast," Minho said when Jisung had gone to see him. He'd looked so heartbroken, even though Jisung could tell he was trying his best to hide it. "We love each other, but I think we were both too ambitious about this. Maybe things would have been different if we'd waited a bit longer but… I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

Jisung didn't agree. Sometimes life was all about timing. Things would've been much different had he and Hyunjin not hated each other from the start. The universe had a funny way of making things happen at just the right time, when you were ready for it. When you _ needed _ it. 

Minho and Seungmin loved each other, but it wasn't the right time. They still had room to grow and explore and Jisung hoped that one day, somehow, they'd find their way back to one another. 

*

Jisung was startled by the front door slamming closed, waking him from the dozed state he'd been floating in. He blinked, turning on the bedside lamp just in time to see Hyunjin entering the room, wide smile on his face. There was a familiar box from the bakery down the street in his hands, one he placed on his bedside table before crawling onto the bed alongside Jisung. 

It wasn't that late, but Jisung had been pulling all-nighters with Chan and Changbin for most of the week, and he was beyond exhausted. Hyunjin had been stuck in a meeting for most of the evening, having texted Jisung earlier to tell him he wouldn't be able to be home in time for dinner. 

The part of Jisung that would've been struck by fear at those words months ago, was gone now. That residual trauma having being overcome with time, effort and lots and _ lots _of communication.

"Hi baby," Jisung said sleepily, sighing as Hyunjin settled over him, body warm and firm.

He wrapped his arms around Hyunjin's shoulders, curling a leg around his waist, and burying his face in the crook of his neck. He hummed contently, Hyunjin laughing silently at him. 

"Hi," Hyunjin said, pressing a kiss to Jisung's cheek, and then his lips, lingering there before placing on last kiss on his forehead. "I missed you." 

Jisung smiled at those words, happiness expanding in his chest. He blinked his eyes open, staring up at Hyunjin's blurry figure fondly. 

"But you just saw me this morning," Jisung joked. Hyunjin rolled his eyes at the response. 

"Doesn't matter," Hyunjin said, brushing Jisung's hair away from his forehead, a tender look in his eyes as he stared down at him. "I always miss you."

Jisung was so _ warm_. Not just because Hyunjin was draped across him liked some overheated blanket. No, that warmth came from Hyunjin's words, and the way he didn't hesitate to say them. 

Things hadn't gotten better overnight. The effects of what Jisung's mother had done to him had left scars running so deep, they'd sought out professional help. Hyunjin had insisted on it, saying he didn't want to put all of this one Jisung, despite Jisung's adamant protests that he could handle it. 

_ "I hurt you before. I never want to do that again—I never want to _ risk _ doing that again. So I need to do this by myself, I need to work _ on _ myself," _Hyunjin said after he'd told Jisung about the therapist he found. Jisung had nodded, promising to be supportive, to be there if Hyunjin ever needed him. Hyunjin smiled so brightly, and once again, it felt like Jisung was finally doing the right thing. 

Now Hyunjin spoke freely, touched without hesitation, laughed and cried and got annoyed and _ lived. _He wasn't as open as he used to be, but after everything that happened, Jisung hadn't expected him to be. There were new parts of him too, ones that hadn't been there. 

That cold, distant fortress never truly went away, but that was okay. He didn't shut Jisung out anymore, let him inside to live through the ice with him. Even if he was silent for days on end, gaze faraway and glassy, Jisung didn't mind it. Just the fact that Hyunjin felt comfortable enough to allow Jisung to see all these new sides of him meant more than he could ever put into words. 

"How was work?" Jisung asked, nuzzling Hyunjin's neck. 

Before Minho had left for America, he'd offered Hyunjin a position at his company. Hyunjin had been reluctant at first, not wanting to have anything just _ handed _to him, but Minho had reassured him that he would have to go through the usual application process with just a bit of help—a glowing recommendation letter that they all knew would seal the deal. 

Jisung had watched as Hyunjin grew in that new environment, how he became comfortable with himself again. Hyunjin had always loved to dance, and Jisung loved anything that made him happy. 

"It was _ work. _The meetings were long and tiring. We didn't do much practical work today because they've been renovating the studios, but at least we'll be set for the festival soon. Did you know Minho-hyung was coming back to perform?" Hyunjin asked, and Jisung hummed. 

"He called me last week and told me about it. Can't wait to see how _ that _ goes," Jisung said, making Hyunjin snort. 

"It's not like they're going to see each other and run in opposite directions. They've both been very mature about the divorce," Hyunjin said, and Jisung had to admit he was right. 

Jisung could still remember the way Minho and Seungmin had clung to each other at the airport, the day Minho was set to leave for New York. There had been tears on both their faces, and Jisung had been too far away to hear what they were saying, but he knew whatever it was only seemed to make both of them cry harder. 

Jisung had ached for them. He still did. 

He held out hope that they'd find their way back to each other, eventually. Even if it took years, he wished only happiness for them. 

"Sometimes I feel bad," Jisung said softly, watching Hyunjin frown at his words. "We got to work things out but they didn't. It just seems a bit unfair." 

Hyunjin shook his head. 

"Weren't you always the one you told me that the universe has some masterplan? Things happen for a reason and all that shit. Which means that what happened with the two of them was _ meant _to happen. And what happened with us was meant to happen too. You just have to trust that things will work out, however long it takes."

_ However long it takes, _ Jisung thought with a bittersweet smile. _ Remember when that used to apply to us? _

Instead of wandering down that path, he turned away and focused on Hyunjin with a smile. 

"My darling husband, so _ wise," _Jisung teased, leaning up to kiss Hyunjin's nose. "I knew there was a reason I married you." 

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes, digging his fingers into Jisung's side and watching him squirm and laugh, tears in his eyes as he begged for mercy. 

"I married you because no one else would, and I was too nice of a friend to let you die alone," Hyunjin sniffed, and Jisung could see him fighting off a grin.

"Such a good friend," Jisung chuckled. 

"I'm guessing this was just an added benefit?" Jisung asked, tangling his fingers in Hyunjin's hair and tugging him down until their lips met. Jisung deepened the kiss, his hold on Hyunjin's hair tightening and making him moan. Jisung pulled back, gasping for air, Hyunjin trailing kisses down to his neck. 

"Of course, haven't you ever heard of friends with benefits?" Hyunjin asked, gaze flicking up to Jisung's face, faux innocence in his eyes. Jisung laughed loudly at his words. 

"I _ hate _you," he said, still laughing as Hyunjin kissed him again, soft and slow, like they had all the time in the world. And they did. 

"No you don't," Hyunjin said smugly. "You _ love _me." 

He said it mockingly, smirk on his lips, but the fondness in his eyes was obvious. Jisung couldn't help but smile back.

"Yeah, I really do," Jisung said. Hyunjin's smirk faltered, and his expression dropped into a scowl. 

"You fucking _ loser _," Hyunjin said. "You're supposed to play along."

"What can I say? I just can't deny my love for you," Jisung said, his turn to smirk now as Hyunjin buried his face in Jisung's shoulder. 

_ "Stop," _Hyunjin groaned. Jisung hooked a leg around Hyunjin's waist and flipped them over until he was straddling his husband's waist. 

_ "Never," _ Jisung said, leaning down to pepper kisses across Hyunjin's face until he was squirming with suppressed laughter. "I love you, and I'm _ never _going to shut up about it."

Hyunjin's annoyed facade finally broke, and he stared up at Jisung with unadulterated awe. He looked at Jisung like he couldn't believe he was real. Like he couldn't believe Jisung was _ his. _

And he was. The same was that this was _ his _Hyunjin, that he belonged to Jisung so completely. Jisung belonged to him too. 

"I love you," Hyunjin said. 

Jisung smirked, leaning down until his face was hovering over Hyunjin's. 

"I know." 

There was a pause, and Hyunjin's expression changed from one of awestruck love into irritation and disbelief. 

_ "Did you just quote fucking Star Wars?" _

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you to everyone you beta'ed this for me, you guys are amazing. if there are any errors let me know, and i really do love getting comments and feedback.


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